


Crema Verse Prompt Fill #7

by twobirdsonesong



Series: Crema Verse [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: Barista Blaine, Crema verse, Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M, Prompt Fill, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked you: -sigh- I just want some smut. Celebratory smut. New apartment? Blaine’s big break? Good job on that promotion? Thanks for getting the groceries?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crema Verse Prompt Fill #7

Blaine hefts the heavy grocery bags up onto the counter with a relieved sigh.  He flexes his hands and frowns at the red lines left behind by the handles that cut across his palms.  He doesn’t tend to wish they had a car (it is New York after all), but sometimes, when he’s got a gallon of milk and what feels like six pounds of apples, he at least thinks that having the option would be nice.  Not that he’s eager to drive through midtown Manhattan or anything.  
  
He’s pulling items out of the bags and putting them away into the fridge and cupboards when he hears Kurt’s footsteps behind him.  
  
“Hey, I didn’t know you were getting groceries.  You could have asked for some help you know.”  Kurt’s voice is teasingly reproachful and Blaine glances over his shoulder to where Kurt is watching him put away their groceries.  
  
“Nah, I got it.”  Blaine stretches to throw a box of spaghetti noodles up onto the proper shelf, and if he exaggerates the movement to show off the full curve of his ass, well, that’s his prerogative.  He can feel the heat of Kurt’s gaze on him and it never fails to make him blush with anticipation, just a little, even after all this time.  He arches his back just a little bit more.  
  
“I know you wanted to try and recreate that lemon risotto we had the other week from that place with the cute waiter, so I picked up a couple of lemons and some Arborio rice, because the Internet told me that was the best kind for it and-” the rest of Blaine’s shopping list gets cut off by the swift press of Kurt’s lips against his.  Blaine makes a muffled sound of surprise and pleasure that gets swallowed up by Kurt’s mouth.  He drops the onion he’d been about to put into the shallow wooden bowl on the counter and doesn’t care as it rolls across the floor.  
  
Blaine’s lips part so easily for Kurt and his eyes close against the familiar surge of heat in his belly, and the rich, heady taste of Kurt’s tongue.  They’ve kissed thousands of times in thousands of ways, but each one still feels exhilarating and wonderful and precious.  It’s all familiar and all perfect - the way Kurt lets him control the kiss, but only for a while before he pushes in and takes over, how Kurt sucks on his upper lip and nips at his lower one, the way Kurt’s fingers tangle in his hair and tug just hard enough to send shivers across Blaine’s scalp and all through his body.  The way Kurt’s kisses always taste of chocolate and crema.  
  
He wraps his arms tight around Kurt, uncaring of the rest of the groceries (it’s not like anything will spoil in next 15 minutes), and pulls him close to his body, needing the solid weight of Kurt against him.  Blaine shifts his legs apart and moans when Kurt slips a strong thigh between his and nudges up with a tantalizing bit of pressure; he can feel Kurt already half-hard against his hip.  He shivers at the slick, wet slide of Kurt’s tongue in his mouth and the way Kurt’s hands grip hard at his hips.  He’s ok with it if Kurt wants to leave a few bruises.  
  
But Blaine wants more than a few, albeit wonderful, kisses.  He wants heat and touch and Kurt’s smooth skin under his palms and he pulls at the hem of Kurt’s shirt, struggling to get it out of the way, but Kurt just smiles against his mouth and pushes his grasping hands away.  
  
“Kurt,” he tries to protest, but Kurt kisses him quiet.  
  
Kurt’s cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, his lips are swollen and red, and his eyes have gone a dark, stormy blue.  Blaine just knows that secret, devious look on his face – he knows what it means, but, standing in their kitchen with an onion rolling away somewhere and a carton of eggs at his elbow, it doesn’t make any sense.  Blaine groans from deep in his chest as Kurt slowly drops to his knees on the hard floor.  
  
Oh, he thinks fuzzily as the realization flares low and aching in his belly.  Blaine will never, ever understand how this perfect creature is his.  He is so in love with this man.  
  
Nimble fingers get his pants open and over his ass with practiced ease and Blaine shudders when he feels strong thumbs dig into the sharp lines of his hips and drag down to slip under the waistband of his boxer-briefs.  Kurt knows how sensitive he is there, and he uses it to his every advantage; Blaine’s legs are already trembling and he can feel the flush spreading down his chest.  He rubs a palm briefly across one of his own nipples and the heat blooms brighter.  
  
“Kurt,” Blaine murmurs again, and he reaches down to brush his fingers across Kurt’s cheekbone.  
  
Kurt flashes a quick, dirty grin up at him before he opens his mouth and sucks the head of Blaine’s cloth-covered cock into his mouth.  Blaine’s eyes flutter shut and he reaches down to grip Kurt’s shoulder.  Kurt’s hands drag up and around the backs of his thighs and his fingers dig into the thick, strong muscles.  The ache low in his belly intensifies and Blaine tries to spread his legs further, but he’s caught by the unforgiving hold of his jeans.  
  
Sometimes Kurt draws this out – long and languorous – getting Blaine close and then closer still, and then backing off, over and over until Blaine is a sweating, swearing,wrecked mess.  Sometimes he spends what feels like an hour just mapping the crease of Blaine’s thighs with his lips and tongue and flicking his fingertips against Blaine’s small, peaked nipples.  Other times, if they don’t have enough time or Kurt’s just in amood, it’s so fast and frantic Blaine barely has a chance to breathe before he’s yelling Kurt’s name and clutching desperately at the sheets as he shudders his release.  
  
Kurt tugs Blaine’s underwear down to mid-thigh, the waistband biting into his skin, and then his tongue is dragging hot and rough up Blaine’s cock and he knows this time’s going to be like the latter.  
  
Blaine leans heavily against the counter, and the fingers of his right hand scrabble for purchase against the slick granite while his left tangles in Kurt’s soft hair.  Kurt hums appreciatively around his cock and Blaine has to keep himself from thrusting forward harshly.  Kurt can take it – he knows – but it’s still the gentlemanly thing to do.  Blaine chances a look down (sometimes he has to squeeze his eyes shut because the visual is too much) and he groans brokenly at the sight of his engagement ring glimmering brightly against Kurt’s chestnut hair and Kurt’s red lips stretched around his flushed, hard cock.  
  
His world is the filthy wet sounds of Kurt sucking him in deep and perfect, the sight of Kurt’s lashes dark against his flushed cheeks, and the pleasure sparking hot and sweet down his spine and tingling along every nerve of his body.  One of Kurt’s hands slides up the back of his thigh to grip at his ass and Blaine wishes he’d remembered to replace the empty bottle of lube they usually keep in one of the bottom drawers, for just such occasions - because no one should have to resort to butter.  
  
Blaine doesn’t understand how Kurt just knows how to do this to him, how he’s always known, since the very beginning, since the first time he’d tugged Blaine to the foot of the bed and knelt down between his knees.  How he knows to drag the flat of his tongue up the straining length of him just so, how to press two fingers back behind his balls; how Kurt wants to take him deep into his throat even though Blaine isn’t smalland Blaine doesn’t need that but of course he’ll take anything Kurt is willing to give him.  Blaine can’t imagine ever wanting this from someone else.  
  
He feels it growing too fast in the pit of his stomach and he’s not going to last.  Sometimes he can – sometimes he can hold back and make Kurt work for it, or make Kurt beg for it, but not today.  Blaine can hardly control anything – not the way his hips want to rock forward, and certainly not the orgasm building hot and heavy in his belly – not when Kurt drops to his knees in the middle of their kitchen and gets his pants open and off it the space of a heartbeat.  
  
The wet heat of his mouth and the tightening of his lips around his cock are just different enough from when Blaine is buried deep inside of Kurt, gripped so snugly by the muscles of his body, that it makes his breath catch at how there are so many different ways to feel.  It doesn’t feel the first time, but it feels like a new time.  
  
Kurt sinks down and down until his nose is pressed to the dark hair of Blaine’s groin and the subtle flex of his throat and the drag of his fingertip, dry against Blaine’s opening, are more than enough.  Blaine spasms and comes, groaning Kurt’s name as the pleasure rolls white-hot and pounding all through his body.  He can’t stop the erratic thrust of his hips then, but Kurt just goes with it.  The counter digs sharply into his back as he arches and shakes and feels his cock continue to spasm in Kurt’s mouth.  Kurt swallows him down – he always does – and licks at Blaine’s oversensitive, twitching cock until he’s no longer cleaning him up but just tasting.  
  
Blaine groans and hauls Kurt to his feet and pulls him into a wet, messy kiss that tastes of his own bitter come and, beneath that, the lingering sweetness of Kurt.  He trails a hand down Kurt’s back as Kurt pushes his fingers through Blaine’s sweat-damp curls, and Blaine encourages him to thrust against his hip until Kurt shudders out his own release, right there in his pants, as if he were sixteen again.  (Blaine often wishes he’d known Kurt at sixteen, and he can’t help but wonder what his life would be like now if he had.)  Blaine takes a long moment just to breathe in deep the mingled scent of their skin and come and musk as his heartbeat slowly returns to normal.  
  
“Thank you,” Kurt murmurs against his temple before he presses another tender kiss to Blaine’s mouth.  
  
“For…?” If there are thanks to be had, Blaine should be giving them to Kurt.  
  
Kurt leans back from his embrace and smiles sweetly at him – all bright eyes and open face.  Blaine can’t imagine what he must look like – pants open, softening cock split-slick against his thigh, cheeks flushed and glistening with sweat.  
  
“You bought me lemons,” Kurt says and darts in to lick his way into Blaine’s mouth again.  
  
“I did the laundry too,” Blaine responds and he slides his hand up to grip at the back of Kurt’s neck.  “And I vacuumed the rugs.  And took out the trash.  And-”  
  
“Well then,” Kurt pulls Blaine away from the counter and starts to walk him backward towards their bedroom.  “I guess you need to be thanked again.  And again.”  
  
Blaine laughs, full to the brim with light and love, and he hopes the eggs will be all right on the counter for a little longer.


End file.
